


drabbles and such

by cjmasim



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Boston Bruins, Drabble Collection, M/M, i promise there will be fluff one day djndsksj
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 22:51:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18200087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjmasim/pseuds/cjmasim
Summary: A collection of my drabbles/mini fics about the Bruins, all of which come from prompts sent to me on Tumblr.





	1. Jake/Charlie: playoff angst

**Author's Note:**

> all prompts come from [my tumblr](http://www.cjmasim.tumblr.com), and thanks to everyone who has sent and continues to send them!
> 
> this is ongoing and will never be complete as the chapters aren't related. feel free to skip around!
> 
> also, i'm retroactively uploading some older drabbles/short fics, so for this reason and the fact that it's ongoing, i'll put the date on every chapter along with the ship and prompt.
> 
> enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake/Charlie, music shuffle prompt (Linkin Park – Waiting for the End), July 2, 2018

The clock ticks down – 3, 2, 1 – and the buzzer goes off. It’s over. They’ve lost.

Jake gets off the ice as fast as he can after the handshake line. He knows it shouldn’t hurt this badly – he’s only a rookie, after all; hardly anyone wins the cup, let alone as a rookie. But he’d really thought they had a chance. He’d given it his all in the playoffs, and he knows he wasn’t the only one – Charlie, Pasta, Torey, Gryz, Bergy, Marchy, Zee, Tuukka, Schalls, Sean – just about every guy on the team had given it his all, but it wasn’t enough.

He sits next to Charlie on the flight back to Boston as usual, but can’t bring himself to speak, instead resting his head on Charlie’s shoulder and pretending to sleep. He had really thought they were going to win the Cup, and now that they’re out, he’s numb. They have so much more time to win it, he knows, but it feels like he’s lost his chance; he had been so sure. 

He says nothing on the drive home, either, and Charlie keeps glancing over at him from the driver’s seat, clearly worried, but not saying anything himself. 

It’s not until they get home that Charlie makes him speak.

“Jake,” he says. “I know it sucks. Trust me; I’m feeling it too. But this isn’t the end. We’ve got so many more years, you and I, and we’ve got a great group. If we just keep working hard, all of us, we’ll get it. I promise.”

“How can you promise?” Jake says, breaking his silence. 

“Because I’m not going to rest until we’ve got that Cup,” Charlie says, and yeah, there are so many flaws with that statement, but Jake can’t bring himself to care. “We’re both going to stay on this team for the rest of our careers, and we’re going to lift the Cup – together. Even if we’re older than Jagr, we’re going to keep going until we win it.”

Jake finally cracks a small smile, picturing them riding the bench together, receding gray hairlines and wrinkles, finally lifting the cup. 

“Now, come to bed, okay? It’s late, and I promise you’ll feel at least a tiny bit better in the morning,” Charlie says.

“Okay,” he whispers. He starts to walk toward the bedroom, and Charlie stops him, pulling him in for a slow, soft kiss.

“It’s going to be okay,” Charlie whispers once they pull apart, and finally, Jake starts to believe him. 

Next year.


	2. Brad/Patrice: relationship fight angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brad/Patrice, “You dumbass! You could’ve been killed!”, November 6, 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: alcohol use, driving under the influence

Brad pulls himself off the couch, taking the empty bottle with him to the kitchen. He throws it in the trash with the other bottles, going to grab another one, only to find that he’s finished the 12–pack he bought earlier that day. He groans, closing the refrigerator and leaning against the counter. He’s drunk, yes, but it’s not enough, because he still can’t forget, not even for a second. 

He is such an idiot.

–

_“I’m just not ready,” Patrice repeats, crossing his arms._

_“You always say that!” Brad yells. “It’s been almost a year, Pat! We have /nothing/ to be afraid of.”_

_“I’m not afraid,” Patrice says, alarmingly calm. “I just know it’s going to change some things, and I’m not ready.”_

_“That’s bullshit,” Brad laughs in disbelief. “You just don’t want people to know you’re dating me, huh? What, are you ashamed of me?”_

_“Brad, come on–“_

_“No,” Brad cuts in. “You are, aren’t you? Say it. Say you’re ashamed of me.”_

_“Would you just fucking listen–“_

_“You don’t want them to pity you for having to put up with me,” Brad says, ignoring Patrice as he continues to protest. “You don’t want them to say I cheated on you with Komorov, right? Or that you’ll, I don’t know, get the fucking plague from–“_

_Patrice throws his hands up and turns away, heading to the door. Brad stops, and when Patrice gets to the door, he speaks again. “We’re done,” he says, no trace of emotion in his voice. He steps out of the apartment and slams the door, leaving Brad alone with his heightened emotions crashing, knowing he fucked up._

–

“Fuck,” Brad hisses, throwing one of the beer bottles to the ground and watching it shatter. He steps over the broken glass to grab a jacket and his keys, walking to the same door Patrice walked out of earlier that day.

He’s above the legal limit, but this is important. It’ll be fine, he tells himself.

–

“You dumbass!” Patrice yells, letting Brad into the apartment and slamming the door behind him. “You could’ve been killed! You could’ve killed someone else! What the fuck were you thinking?”

Brad has made it to his apartment in one piece, despite a close call with the curb, but Patrice isn’t as happy to see him as Brad had hoped, even if he hadn’t realistically expected him to be. 

“I just needed to see you,” Brad says, looking up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“You could’ve _called_ “, Patrice says. “Or waited until tomorrow. What the fuck, Brad?”

“I’m sorry,” Brad says again, and Patrice just sighs. He walks down the hallway, and Brad doesn’t follow, not sure if he’s allowed to. A moment passes, and just as Brad is thinking of following after him anyway, Patrice returns, blanket in hand.

“Sleep on the couch, and we’ll talk in the morning,” he says, throwing the blanket at Brad, who just barely catches it. 

–

Brad wakes up with a splitting headache and an ache in his back. Patrice’s couch is comfortable for sitting, but sleeping is another matter entirely. He sits up gingerly, and it is then that he notices the medicine and glass of water on the coffee table, with a sticky note attached.

 _Brad_ , it reads. _I’m still furious with you, but we won’t be able to have a conversation if you’re in too much pain._

Brad almost smiles, but stops when he remembers the events of the previous night. Their argument had been bad enough, but driving drunk over to Patrice’s apartment? Brad isn’t sure how he’s going to recover from this. Patrice hates drunk drivers, always has, and he refuses to let anyone on the team drive after even two beers. Brad knows he’s right; he could’ve died, or worse, killed someone else. He never would’ve forgiven himself, but what about Patrice? Would he blame himself if Brad died trying to get to him? What if Brad had killed someone? 

He takes the pills, trying to stop that train of thought before it gets too far.

“Oh, you’re up.” It’s Patrice, of course, and Brad really doesn’t think he’s ready to face him yet, but Patrice is already settling into the armchair opposite the couch, so apparently he doesn’t get to have a say, which, really, is fair enough.

“I’m so sorry,” Brad says, his voice still raspy with sleep. He clears his throat. “I was such a fucking dumbass. On both accounts.”

“Yeah,” Patrice says. “You were.”

“I don’t know why I thought last night was a good idea,” Brad continues. “I know how dangerous it is, and normally I would never, but I just felt so bad about our fight that I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I couldn’t bear to lose you, so I just – I had to get to you, and I was drunk enough that that made sense to me and nothing else mattered.”

“You should’ve called,” Patrice says, calmer than he’d been last night.

“I know,” Brad says. “I can’t even begin to explain how sorry I am, and if something had happened – fuck, I would’ve never forgiven myself.”

“Nor would I,” Patrice says, and it stings, but Brad knows he’s right.

“I’ll never do it again,” Brad says. “I won’t even drink that much, at least not for a long time.”

“Good,” Patrice says, and Brad gets the sense that it’s time to move on.

“What I said yesterday – I had no right, and I’m sorry about that, too.”

“I told you I wasn’t ready, and you didn’t respect that,” Patrice says, and Brad turns to look him in the eye.

“I know,” he says. “I am such an asshole, and I’m sorry, but - it was manipulative, and really, really shitty of me, and I should’ve just respected your wishes. If you give me another chance, I promise I will, and we can go at your pace, and I won’t ever try to push you into something you’re not comfortable with ever again.”

Patrice sighs. “You’re right,” he says. “But I shouldn’t have left.”

“No,” Brad says. “You were right to leave, and I don’t blame you for it. We both needed to cool off. I’m the one who should’ve kept my emotions in check and just – not been a fucking idiot.”

“Fine,” Patrice says, and Brad swears he almost smiles. “I still think we need some space, and I think we both have things we need to work through, but I suppose I forgive you.”

Brad smiles, for real this time. “Thank you,” he says. “Really. I don’t deserve it, but – I’m glad you do.”


	3. Jake/Charlie: hogwarts au angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake/Charlie, "Grab my hand", November 6, 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this takes place in the same universe as my fic [never gonna quit it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487510/chapters/38612168), which you should totally read ;) this takes place after the main narrative, during the 2018 Quidditch World Cup, and there aren't any major spoilers. 
> 
> warnings: minor character death, mass murder/terrorism (Death Eaters)

Jake had heard the stories from 1994 – his parents had been there, after all – but he didn’t think it would ever happen again. He’d been naive to think so, especially given all that’s been happening in the Muggle world lately; it was only inevitable that it eventually bleed into the Magical world as well. 

He and Charlie are leaving the stands, moving slowly in the dense crowd. They’re disappointed, having hoped for Canada to defeat the U.S., but Jake knows they’ll get over it quickly. It’s just a game, after all, and they have no personal stakes in the matter. Really, considering that the World Cup is in Massachusetts this year, Jake is tempted to suggest that the match may have been fixed, though he says nothing. 

They aren’t speaking as they leave the match, and as a result, Jake finds himself zoning out. When Charlie tugs at his hand, Jake doesn’t even know what’s happened until he looks up and sees it. 

The Dark Mark is floating in the sky, just as it used to during the wars. Jake’s only seen it in books – he didn’t think he’d ever see it in person. 

He learned from said books that it’s meant to be a sign of an attack, which means – 

“Charlie, run!” Jake yells.

Everyone else has the same idea, and with everyone trying to run in different directions, Jake can’t even move. He grips Charlie’s hand even tighter, trying not to let them be separated, but when he sees flashes of green lighting up the sky, he knows they have to get out of here immediately. 

It’s dangerous to Apparate, even more so in such chaos; the risk of accidentally taking part of someone else with them is far too high. Jake begins pushing until finally, after what feels like an eternity, they’re near the edge of the crowd. Jake pushes harder, trying to get out, and nearly trips over a discarded tree branch. He loses Charlie’s hand in the process, but Charlie manages to push out as well, and they’re free. 

“Doesn’t this just make us more vulnerable?” Charlie asks, looking around frantically. 

“We’ll have to Apparate,” Jake says. “Grab my hand.”

Charlie reaches out to grab Jake’s hand again, but before he can, he stumbles, falling down to the ground. Jake feels his heart lurch, but then he sees that Charlie’s still alive. The person who’d been standing behind him isn’t, and – fuck. 

There’s a hooded figure standing directly behind Charlie now, wand drawn and pointed at Jake. 

Charlie’s a few feet away from him, now, and Jake starts to panic. He doesn’t have time to get to him, not with the wand pointed right at him.

“Go!” Charlie yells, but it sounds far away, distorted. Jake focuses on their hotel, remembering all the details he can think of in half a second, and Apparates. Just as he does, he swears he sees a flash of green, but he arrives in the hotel room, safe, alive, and alone. 

He realizes right away that he should have stayed, shouldn’t have listened to Charlie, because what chance does he have now? Jake knows he dropped his wand, isn’t sure if he’s had the time to pick it up yet, and if he hasn’t, he has no chance of Apparating in time, no chance of disarming or attacking the figure. 

  
If Jake had stayed, he could’ve tried to do that, and sure, maybe he would’ve died, but at least he could’ve saved Charlie, not just run away like a coward, leaving him there to die. 

He has to go back. He has to. Even if it isn’t safe, Jake doesn’t care; if Charlie still alive, he has to get him out of there, and even if – no, he isn’t going to consider that.

–

Jake gets back to the crowd easily enough, only a few feet away from where he’d left. Charlie is nowhere to be found, and Jake isn’t sure what to make of it. There are bodies on the ground, more than he could ever bring himself to count, but Charlie isn’t one of them. Did he escape? Was he taken prisoner, or – even worse – did the culprits recognize him as a professional Quidditch player and choose to use him as an example, do something publicly? Or did he just manage to run, and die somewhere else? 

Jake doesn’t see any hooded figures, and it’s barely been two minutes. Most of the crowd has dispersed by now, and by the looks of it, most got out alive.

“Charlie!” He yells, even though he knows it’s a risk. The killers could still be nearby, and he could just be making himself into a target, but he has to try.

There’s no response, and Jake feels his heart beat even faster. He begins to walk, going as fast as he can while still being sure to check every possible hiding place, searching for Charlie. Jake keeps this up for a long time, hours, even. He doesn’t pause, not even for a second, and when it gets too dark to see, he lights up his wand and continues looking. Eventually, someone approaches him.

“Searching for someone?”

Jake startles, and readies his wand for attack, but a closer look reveals that the man is an Auror. Or, well, that’s what Jake thinks of him as; he isn’t sure if Americans have a different name for them. 

“The dead have all been identified and are gathered at the site of the attack,” the man continues. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to come back with me. The area’s on lockdown while we make sure we’ve gathered everyone involved.”

“But – my boyfriend–“

“He may have escaped,” the man says, his voice gentle. He begins to walk, gesturing for Jake to follow, and he does. “Were you two separated?”

“Yes,” Jake says. “But there was a wizard – I think he cast it at me, I saw the green as I was escaping, but I–“ his voice starts to crack, and Jake takes a deep breath, willing himself not to cry in front of this stranger. “I couldn’t just leave him to die. But when I came back, he was gone.”

“If you didn’t find his body, he most likely escaped,” the man says, and Jake knows it’s logical, but he’s not going to believe it until he sees Charlie alive again.

They spend the rest of the walk back in silence, Jake’s mind racing as he tries not to have a complete mental breakdown. Charlie might still be alive – it’s likely, even, that he is – so he has to stay focused.

Eventually, they make it back to the site of the attack. The bodies have been concealed now, but they each have a small group of mourners around them, relatives, most likely, so Jake starts to believe just a little more. The Auror leads him to a tent, explaining that those who were separated from their loved ones are waiting inside, and Jake enters.

Almost immediately, Charlie runs up to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Jake hugs back as tightly as he can manage, breathing him in, feeling him, reassuring himself that Charlie really is alive. He feels the tears start to come as Charlie says his name, over and over, and he lets them fall. Charlie runs his hand up and down Jake’s back, comforting him.

Eventually, Jake calms down, and they break apart. He can see that Charlie’s eyes are wet as well, and there are tear stains on his cheeks.

“I thought you were dead,” Charlie says quietly. “I thought the curse might’ve traveled with you, that your body was somewhere else, maybe that you hadn’t made it to the right location. I thought you’d been trapped between places, maybe.”

Jake remembers the flash of green he’d seen before escaping, and realizes with a jolt what it must have looked like to Charlie. 

“No, no, I’m okay,” Jake says. “I got to the hotel, but I couldn’t – I couldn’t leave you there.”

“You should have,” Charlie says, shaking his head. “I grabbed my wand while you escaped, and I managed to disarm the guy, so I Apparated back to the hotel room. I thought I’d find you there, or at least your – you know. But it was empty.”

“Fuck,” Jake laughs despite himself. “We really switched places at the same time?”

Charlie smiles faintly. “I guess we did..”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Jake says, and Charlie pulls him closer once again.

“Me too,” he says. 


	4. Danton/Sean: miscommunication crack–angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danton/Sean, general angst prompt from an "anon" but it was really a friend who wanted me to write a meme as a serious fic (you'll see), February 25, 2019

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: major character death (but it's crack), absolute clownery

“Hey, did you know it’s been almost four months now?”

The question is not what Sean had been expecting Danton to ask. It’s a normal Thursday morning, the two of them walking to their Anthro 101 class together in relative quiet. It’s usually quite peaceful, and Sean just likes being able to focus on little other than the feeling of Danton’s hand in his. 

He’s right, though, Sean realizes. It’s almost halfway through the semester, and they’d started dating during registration last semester. Maybe four months isn’t a major milestone to most, but it’s the longest he’s ever been in a relationship.

“We gonna celebrate?” Sean asks, and the easy smile Danton gives him in return is confirmation enough. Danton doesn’t say anything in return, and they return to silence. 

Should he say something else, though? Danton isn’t usually the type to bring up things like that – he’s open about his feelings, sure, but only when prompted. Sean’s the more outwardly emotional of the two of them, but it’s a balance that works for them. Danton grounds Sean, and Sean helps Danton open up. It hasn’t been that long, but Sean’s never felt anything even remotely like this for anyone else. He’s in love, maybe, and he’s starting to think it isn’t too early to say that.

“I love you, you know,” he says without thinking. He can’t take it back now, but Danton makes this pleasant little noise of surprise and grips Sean’s hand even tighter and Sean wouldn’t even dream of taking it back.

“I love you too, Sean,” Danton says. “What prompted this?”

“Oh, just thinking,” Sean replies. “It’s just – I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, but I really can’t get enough of you. You – I mean, it’s cheesy, but I really only like who I am when I’m around you. It’s like – it’s like you complete me.”

“Sean…”

“Sorry, that was – “ He’s an idiot, but, well, why stop here? “I can’t see any other life for me but loving you forever. And I’m okay with that – more than just okay, I wouldn’t want anything else. Are you – do you think you’ll love me forever?”

Danton’s quiet for a moment, and Sean swears he can hear his own heartbeat. 

“No,” he finally replies, and Sean is overcome with the sensation of having gone down a massive drop on a roller coaster without a seatbelt. His heart has stopped, and everything is blurry, and this can’t be real, he can’t have – 

Sean tugs his hand out of Danton’s grasp, and he knows Danton’s calling out to him, but all he can hear is the ringing of his words in his ear. “No,” he hears. “No, no, no, no, no,” on and on and on and on. He begins to walk away, trying to find some solace, and when Danton’s voice doesn’t get farther away, he starts to run. He’s already lost his dignity, he’s sure. What’s left to lose?

–

Danton tries running after Sean, but it’s like Sean doesn’t even hear him. Still, he won’t give up until he can explain.

He stays just a few strides behind Sean, and really, he could probably tackle him if he wanted to, but he feels like that would just cause more of a scene than necessary. He’s nearly caught up to him, intending to just grab his sleeve or something to stop him, when he collides with something hard.

“Watch where you’re going, loser,” a woman who sounds suspiciously like the antagonist in a typical high school coming of age movie says. Danton doesn’t bother to look at her, just keeps running after Sean, but he’s farther away now. He picks up the pace.

“Sean, just let me explain!” He yells, and still, Sean doesn’t even flinch. Danton opens his mouth, prepared to repeat the phrase once again, but freezes as he realizes where Sean is headed.

“Sean, no!” He screams, watching, helpless, as Sean runs out into oncoming traffic. A black Honda Civic screeches to a halt, just barely missing him, but the Chevy – oh, God, the Chevy – 

Danton isn’t sure whether he actually sees it happen, but the truck doesn’t even slow down, running straight into Sean and flattening him. He screams, but doesn’t hear the sound come out, and runs after him without a second thought.

“Sean!” He screams, and as soon as he reaches the truck, he falls to his knees. Sean’s definitely not breathing, and no amount of CPR is going to fix the damage. He’s gone, just like that, and it’s all Danton’s fault. 

“I’m so sorry,” he sobs hysterically. “I was trying to – you wouldn’t listen, baby, no, please, please, you can’t – I won’t love you _for_ ever because I’ll love you _five_ ever.”

The driver gets out of the truck, coming over to try to help, and Danton thinks he recognizes the man as Jaroslav Halak, his chemistry professor. 

Halak says something, but Danton ignores him, cradling Sean’s body in his arms and continuing to sob.

“Five is greater than four, so it means I’ll love you more than just forever,” he whispers, and everything fades to black as he loses consciousness, falling over the body of the man he’ll always love. And then some.


	5. Danton/Sean: post–loss post–breakup angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danton/Sean, "My mom asked about you again", March 12, 2019

The loss to Pittsburgh stings. It’s not a terrible game, really; it had been a close one, and they’d been within reach of the win the whole time. It’s just that they’ve gone so long without losing that Danton had almost forgotten what it felt like. He knows, intellectually, that the loss isn’t his fault, but somehow, being on the top line, it feels a lot worse than when he’d lost games on the third line. With superstar linemates, how could they not score? Is Danton holding them back? Did he make too many mistakes?

There’s no use in dwelling on those thoughts, but Danton finds himself doing it anyway. Oh well – he’s taking too long in the shower and he knows it, and everyone knows it, but they’ll just blame it on his hair. It takes a long time to wash, after all. 

When he finally gets out, still lost in his thoughts, most of the team has already gone to the bus. He doesn’t even register that Sean and Noel are the only ones left until Noel lets the door slam shut on his way out, leaving Danton alone with Sean for the first time in – well, a long time. 

“Tomorrow night,” Sean says by way of greeting, as if Danton’s supposed to know what he’s on about. He does, though, even as it’s been nearly two months since they broke up. 

“I can’t,” Danton says, explaining nothing more than Sean has. He knows Sean knows what he’s saying in far more detail than he could ever articulate. He’s always understood Danton like that.

“Columbus,” Sean says. “My first homecoming of the season. Everyone’s coming, and you know they want to see you again.” Suddenly, Danton notices bitterly, he’s capable of using full sentences.

“I broke up with you for a reason, Sean,” he says. turning away to start getting dressed. He hadn’t even been thinking about that during the conversation, but now, well – 

Now that he’s paying attention, he can see that Sean isn’t even looking at his face, his gaze transfixed firmly on Danton’s abs. Great. Real helpful, Sean. 

“I know,” Sean says, his voice catching a little and making Danton’s heart ache. He ignores it. “It’s just – my mom asked about you again.”

“You still haven’t told her,” Danton says. It’s not a question – he knows Sean hates nothing more than hurting his mom’s feelings, and even though this wasn’t her son’s fault, it would absolutely make her cry. 

Sean says nothing, but his gaze falls further down to the floor.

“Sean, look at me,” Danton says, and Sean complies. He’s not crying, but Danton gets the sense that he wants to. “You know it was nothing personal. And Jane will understand that. Of course it’ll hurt, but you can’t just keep lying to her. It’s not fair to her.”

It feels unnatural to be the voice of reason, but talking to Sean as his ex still feels even worse. 

“I just don’t see why we can’t give it another chance,” Sean says, voice barely above a whisper. He’s not looking anywhere near Danton now.

Danton sighs. He’d like to date Sean, too, is still madly in love with him, has been probably since the day they met. He wants nothing more than to reach out and comfort him right now, to kiss him and listen to him rave about how soft Danton’s hair is, to sit next to him on the team plane and fall asleep with his head on Sean’s shoulder. But they can’t. They can’t, all because Danton was – _is_ – too scared. 

“Uh, hey, you guys only have five minutes before bus call.” Danton looks up to see Noel, who’s wandered back to the visiting locker room to warn them. He gives a thumbs up, and Noel, sensing the severity of the situation, leaves them alone. 

He shouldn’t give into Sean. It won’t be good for either of them to keep indulging their feelings for each other, and it won’t be good for Sean to keep lying to his mom. But maybe, just for one night, they can pretend. 

“I’ll go with you to see your family,” Danton says, and he holds up a hand to stop Sean from breaking out into the grin he knows he’s holding in. “But it’s just for the night. After that, we’re done for real. I – I love you, and I know you know that, but it’s not worth the risk.”

“Dan…” Sean smiles weakly, reaching out to hold Danton’s hand in his. “Thank you, really. But to me, it is worth the risk.” He pauses, leveling Danton with a gaze so intense he’s tempted to look away, run and throw a shirt on and grab his bag so they can make bus call. “Just give it a chance. We don’t have to get back together, but if it really makes you happy to be with me and my family, shouldn’t you at least consider it? You know we have the whole team and our families behind us even if something did go wrong.”

“Sean…” He trails off, thinking about Sean’s words. He really does love Sean, and the feeling of their intertwined hands reminds him of all the times Sean was there for him, a steady, calm presence in even the worst of games and days. He remembers reading the comments on that pride tape Instagram post, alone on the couch, trying desperately not to cry when Sean had come over, wrapped an arm around him, telling him to let it all out. He’d cried in Sean’s arms for a long time, longer than was probably necessary, and barely half an hour later, he’d broken up with him. It wasn’t fair, not to Sean or himself. “I shouldn’t have broken up with you,” he says, and it’s an admission that makes his stomach churn. He loves Sean, yes, but being with him is a risk greater than any Danton’s ever taken. 

“Yeah,” Sean says, voice flat. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, squeezing Sean’s hand. “I really – it wasn’t fair to you. At all. I was just scared, which – I know you know that, but, still. You deserve better.”

“I don’t care,” Sean says without hesitation. “There’s nothing better than you.”

It’s maybe a little overly romantic, and Danton has to wonder what Sean’s been watching on Netflix without him, but the admission makes his world spin a little anyway. 

“Okay,” he whispers, barely audible. “I’ll try it,” he says again, louder, and Sean finally lets his smile break loose. 

“Thank you,” he says, squeezing Danton’s hand again before pulling back. “Now put on a shirt, will you? As much as I enjoy the view, we probably have about two minutes to run across the arena.”

“Oh shit,” Danton says, and rushes to get ready. 

It’s a scramble, and Bruce gives them a disappointed glare upon their arrival, but they’re not technically late. Danton spends the whole ride to the airport with his head on Sean’s shoulder, and nothing, not the loss, not the homophobes, not even Torey’s burning curiosity that he can feel from three rows behind them, could possibly ruin the feeling. It’s pure bliss, being so close to Sean again, and though he’ll have to deal with the consequences someday, well, today is not that day. 


	6. David/Brandon: trade worry angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David/Brandon, "Let it all out babe, just let it all out," March 13, 2019

“Hey, babe, what’s wrong?” David asks. He’s on the team plane, sitting next to Brandon as usual, but the young defenseman is unusually quiet. He’d been like this when they’d first met, partially because he was a rookie and didn’t really know anyone, partially because he’s not the type to open up before getting to know someone. Partially because of, well, _other_ things.

Brandon sighs, turning away from the window he’d been staring out of. It’s nearly midnight, and they’re currently flying over a landscape of farms and fields, so it’s not as if he’s looking at anything in particular. David raises an eyebrow, trying to prompt to actually say what’s on his mind. He likes to keep things to himself, even when he really shouldn’t, but they’ve been working on that. 

“I just don’t want to lose you,” Brandon finally says, so quietly David almost wonders if he imagined it. 

David’s shocked at his words, and he pulls back a little. Their relationship has been perfectly fine – little arguments here and there, mostly over household chores and how much time Brandon spends on Pinterest, but they haven’t had any real issues. Not in a while, anyway, and when they did, they worked through them. 

“Why?” David asks. “I mean, what prompted this?” He’s been in enough relationships by now that he should be able to tell what this is, but he can’t. Is it anxiety? Brandon’s dealt with that enough that it hurts David’s heart every time he thinks about it, but it’s usually concentrated on his game or the possibility of being outed, not their relationship. He’d been worried about that when it had first started, and there had been some blips along the way, but they’d worked through those, or so David had thought. 

There is also the possibility that David doesn’t even want to think about – that Brandon’s done something that he thinks will make David leave him. It’s unlikely, really; he knows that Brandon is a great guy, and though he hates being called one, he really is an angel. He wouldn’t cheat, would he?

David certainly doubts it, but there’s a small part of him that refuses to dismiss the thought once it comes.

“It’s just –“ Brandon starts, but he cuts himself off, and David realizes with a lurch of guilt that he’s getting choked up. “I made the mistake of reading an article,” he continues, voice shaking a little, and David reaches out to wrap an arm around him, pulling him close and stroking his hair. “They’re saying it’s – it’s inevitable that you’ll – I don’t want to lose you,” he says again, and David finally gets what he’s saying. He feels terrible for even thinking that Brandon could have cheated on him, even though he knows the thought was out of his control.

“I can’t promise you I won’t be traded,” David says. It’s not going to make Brandon feel better, but he has to be honest. “But I can promise you that we can make it work. I only have two years left on this contract – I don’t need to stay with the team I get traded to, if it happens. I could retire, and come back to Boston with you. Whatever happens, I won’t stop loving you, okay? We’ll be alright, baby.”

Brandon presses himself closer to David, burying his face in his shirt, and David starts rubbing his back soothingly. He’s not crying, but he’s shaking a little, and David assumes the only thing holding him back is that they’re on the team plane. 

Things tend to happen on planes for the two of them. 

“I know all of this,” Brandon finally says, his voice shaking. “But I’m so scared.”

“I know, I know,” David says. “Let it all out babe, just let it all out.”

Brandon clings tighter to his shirt, and David holds him closer, whispering reassurances in his ear. His heart aches seeing Brandon like this, and he dreads the thought of what a trade would do to him. 

“What if I hold out on my contract–“

“No,” David says, stopping him before he can finish his sentence. “Baby, you’re 22, and you have your whole career ahead of you. You’re so much better already than I ever was, and you can’t just throw that away for me. I’m old, by hockey standards anyway, and I’ll probably have to retire in two years anyway. I’ll always be here for you, but if you have to go two years without me, you’ll make it, okay? I promise you, you’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Brandon nods, still close enough to David’s chest that he can feel it more than he can see it. He’s stopped shaking, though, so David hopes that he’s taken his words to heart. 

“We’ll be okay,” David says again, and Brandon looks up at him.

“I hope you’re right.”


	7. Brad/Patrice: jealousy angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brad/Patrice, "That was supposed to be me, not him", March 14, 2019

Patrice is glad he’s never bothered with social media. Brad used to pester him sometimes about how fun Twitter is, but he’d always shrug him off with a half–hearted promise that he’d think about it one day. Zdeno’s showed him the wonders of Instagram – Jake has, too, though they seem to have very different ideas of how the app works – and Sean’s made him take selfies with Snapchat filters while hinting that he should download the app. Brandon’s even showed him the wonders of Pinterest, though Patrice isn’t convinced there’s a universe out there in which he’d ever enjoy that. He does have a private Facebook for the sake of keeping up with family, but he hardly ever uses it. 

He knows he’s missing out on some teammate interactions, news, memes, and God knows what else, but he’s never really cared, always preferred the lack of distractions and increased focus it brings him, but now, well – 

Brad and Torey have always been close friends, and that relationship has always been characterized by chirping each other over their height. Patrice knows this, has known this as long as Torey’s been on the team.

He may not know much about Twitter, but Patrice does know that “just friends” don’t say “when I’m on my knees”. Maybe straight people – he wouldn’t know – but neither Brad nor Torey is straight. 

So, Brad and Torey are together. Hooking up, or dating, whatever – the point is that Brad has moved on. It’s been almost a year since Brad asked Patrice to date him and he told Brad that they could never work, that he should try to move on, so he really shouldn’t be upset, but – 

His heart shattered that night, and it wasn’t a clean break. Every time he looks at Brad, it feels like another tiny little shard slides down and cuts open his insides, and he wonders if too much time spent with him will be enough to actually kill him. He had wanted nothing less than to stop hooking up with Brad, but they couldn’t date, and Brad just hadn’t understood that – still doesn’t, now that he’s with Torey. The risks are far too great with the current climate of the league, and being such high–profile players, there’s no way they could pull it off without people noticing. Danton and Sean can manage it, sure, but no one pays attention to them. Brad and Patrice are different.

It shouldn’t hurt so badly. He knows Brad returned his feelings once, knows that he could have loved him, that he wanted to try, but Patrice was the one who said no. He should be glad that Brad’s moved on.

“Why does it still hurt?” He asks Zee one day, a couple weeks after he first notices. He hasn’t told anyone else about what happened between him and Brad, even though he knows any of the guys would do whatever they could to help. 

“You and Brad?” Zee asks, and Patrice nods. “I’m guessing you still have feelings for him.”

It’s not a question, but Patrice nods again anyway. “I’ve tried to ignore them, and I should be happy for him, but I just… I see them on Twitter and skating around each other in practice and I think, that was supposed to be me, not him. I think – I think I’m jealous.” He’s mature enough that he can admit that, at least. Torey’s his friend, and he’d die for him just like any of his teammates, but seeing him with Brad hurts more than Game 6 against Chicago had.

“Jealous of – of Torey? Why?” Zee asks, and Patrice furrows his eyebrows.

“They, well, you know… you must have noticed?”

Zee’s eyes widen almost comically, and Patrice realizes that he must have been the only one to notice. He’d known that he’s not over Brad, but to be the only one to notice when they’re so goddamn obvious – he must be more obsessed than he’d thought. 

“They’re not together, Bergy,” Zee says, and he sounds so confident that Patrice’s heart nearly stops. “I’ll admit that I had my suspicions, but Torey came to me two days ago for advice on a guy he met at a coffee shop. His name is Daniel and he’s a firefighter from Charlestown. He showed me a picture, too, so Torey didn’t make him up.”

Patrice doubts that Zee would lie to him, and really, the story does sound legitimate. But to think about Brad being single again – he’s not sure he’s ready. Not sure he’ll ever be, really. 

“I think you should talk to Brad,” Zee says gently. “It’s been almost a year and you’re not over him. I don’t think he’s over you, either. Maybe you should give it a chance.” 

Patrice sighs. It’s far from the first time Zee’s told him this, and he _wants_ to, so, so badly, but he can’t. He can’t risk his career – and worse, Brad’s – just for the sake of emotions. He’ll get through it. 

He tells as much to Zee, almost expecting him to be angry or at least frustrated, but he just frowns, putting a hand on Patrice’s shoulder and looking him in the eyes as he speaks. “You deserve to be happy, Patrice. Not just when you’re on the ice, but always. I know you’re higher–profile than Dan and Sean, but think of it this way. If you do get found out, you’re a lot less likely to face backlash and exclusion from the league just by virtue of your status as one of the best in the game.”

“But Brad–“

“Yes, I know,” Zee sighs. “But maybe being attached to you will be enough. He’d likely want to stay away from social media, but otherwise… I think he’d be alright. You both would. And you know I’ll fight anyone for you, as long as I’m still here, and the other guys will absolutely pick up the slack if I retire.”

“If?” Patrice asks, smiling slightly. It’s an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, but it works. 

“Just tell me you get what I’m saying,” Zee says, and Patrice nods.

“I do,” he says. It’s scary to think about going after something so risky, but Zee does have a point. “I’m not sure I’m ready to make a move, but it’s – something to think about.”

“I get that it’s hard,” Zee says. “But it’s already been so long, and you just had a scare thinking he was with Torey. Should you really be waiting? I’m not expecting you to answer right away, but consider it.”

Again, he’s right. He always is, after all. 

–

Talking to Brad about it is the hardest thing Patrice has ever done. He’s not one for hard conversations, not unless they’re absolutely necessary, and even then, this is a lot harder than any hockey conversation. 

He waits until they’re in the hotel after the flight to Ft. Lauderdale, and he can tell by Brad’s hesitance to allow him into his room that he knows something’s up. 

“Hey,” he says, and without waiting for a response, he jumps right into it. “So, I know I said we can’t work. And I know – at least, I think you haven’t moved on, and I haven’t either. I only said all that because I was scared of what would happen if we got found out. We’re – I mean, I don’t need to say, because I’m sure you know. But it’s been so long and the pain still hasn’t gone away, and I just – I want you more than anything. Maybe even the Cup. And if you’re still interested… I want to give it a shot. But if you’ve moved on, or if you don’t want to, that’s – that’s fine, too, just–“

“Bergy, stop,” Brad says, and he obeys. “Of course I haven’t moved on. How could I? But you – you can’t just –“

“I know,” he says after Brad pauses long enough. “I know. I’m so, so sorry, and I don’t know what – I’d do anything to make it up to you. You’d just have to give me a chance, but if you don’t want to, I understand.” The words hurt to even speak, but they’re true. He’d understand better than anyone. 

“Of course I’ll give you a chance,” Brad says, the corner of his lips turning up in a hint of a smile. “I don’t know how ready I really am, so we’re definitely not hooking up right now, but we’ll get there.”

“Brad…” Patrice can’t find the words to express how he feels, other than that it’s some mix of relieved, grateful, ecstatic, and terrified. It’s a good feeling, though, he thinks. He wants to kiss him, but the timing isn’t right. 

They have time, though. For once, they actually have time. 


	8. Jake/Charlie: cheating angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake/Charlie, "You always cared more about her than you ever did about me", March 15, 2019

“So when were you going to tell me?”

Jake stops in the middle of taking his shoes off, looking at Charlie like he has no idea what he’s talking about. “Tell you what?” He asks.

“Oh, you know,” Charlie says. He doesn’t want to come out and say it – not yet, anyway. He wants to see if Jake will admit to what he’s done. 

It’s been a few months since Jake broke up with Joelle. Charlie knows this – he had been there for Jake when things started to snowball, even as he didn’t really agree with what Jake had done to her. He advised Jake to tell the truth, try to maintain a friendship if she really meant as much to him as he said she did. He was there when Jake needed a shoulder to cry on, a friend to eat Oreo ice cream with, a quick hookup to get his mind off of her. 

But that’s behind them. They’ve continued to hook up fairly often ever since the breakup, and they’ve spent more time with each other than ever before. Their relationship has progressed past hookups, too – it’s not uncommon for the two of them to get lunch together after practice, or go explore a new city on the road together, always just the two of them. Jake hardly ever talked about Joelle anymore, and he seemed happier than Charlie had ever seen him every time they hung out. Charlie had been so sure that Jake felt something for him, was just waiting for the right moment to ask him out for real, but now – 

Well, he isn’t sure how else to explain how he’d seen her car pull out of the parking garage below Jake’s building as he was pulling in. If it were just once, maybe he’d dismiss it, or think he’d been mistaken, but it’s happened three times already and the most recent time, he saw her face. He’s not mistaken – Jake is back with Joelle, or at least hooking up with her, even after how messy their breakup was. It’s not quite cheating, since they’re not quite dating, but he still should’ve _told_ Charlie. 

He shouldn’t be surprised. Jake had cheated on Joelle for most of the five years they were together, and they’d broken up multiple times within those years. It never lasted longer than two weeks, and while Charlie hadn’t known them for most of the relationship, he’d been foolish to think Jake had actually moved on. 

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jake says, bringing Charlie back to the present. “I may have had candy for breakfast? I don’t know how you found out about that, though, I hid the wrappers pretty well–“

“Jake,” Charlie says, no hint of amusement in his voice. Jake shuts up, clearly starting to realize how serious the situation is. “I’m not asking you about _candy_.”

“I’m sorry, man, I really don’t know,” Jake says.

Charlie crosses his arms, staring him down as if that’s going to make him confess. He wants Jake to say it, wants to feel like he respects their relationship and Charlie’s right to know if he’s been with someone else, but deep down, he knows Jake doesn’t care. 

“You always cared more about her than you ever did about me,” Charlie says, and Jake’s eyes go almost comically wide as he starts to clue in. 

“Charlie, if this is about Joelle, I can explain–“

“Save it,” Charlie says, getting up to leave. “You’ve been with her, and you didn’t tell me. Soon enough you’ll go crawling back to her and soon enough you’ll cheat on her again. And the cycle will continue. I’m done, Jake. I can’t be involved in this anymore.”

“But – Charlie, no, wait, we’re not – I mean, we are, but–“

Charlie slams the door to Jake’s apartment, walking as fast as he can down the hallway. The door opens seconds later, Jake yelling for him to come back, but he doesn’t. 

They’re done, just as Jake and Joelle never are. He could never be Jake’s top priority, so it’s time for him to stop making Jake his. 

He has more important things to focus on. 


End file.
